


Memorial

by bismoran



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bismoran/pseuds/bismoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Alistair goes to the memorial to Duncan he erected near Highever on the fifth anniversary of the battle of Ostagar. He is surprised to find someone else there as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorial

The windswept coasts of the Waking Sea, up near Highever, always made one feel as though one was walking in a light mist of rain when one went anywhere. 

But it was not a sensation Alistair minded. Not even when the salt in the mist dried out his lips a little, or when his hair began to droop forward a little into his face.

Even though he only went there once a year, it was one of his favorite places to be. He'd leave behind his advisers, and his bodyguards and his armor in Denerim, and sneak out in the dead of night in his carriage, in a cloak, and be gone for a week. 

The only two to know where he went, besides the servant who drove him, were Surana, and Bann Teagan, and that was mostly so when he was found missing no one decided Orlais kidnapped him and it was time to declare war. 

There was a pattern to his disappearances, though. They all happened the week of the anniversary of the battle of Ostagar. Apparently, it had only taken four years for one of the servants to notice the pattern, because, this time, before he left, he found a knapsack of food on his bed, along with a messily scrawled, and poorly spelt, note wishing him well. 

He'd rent a room in one of the small taverns, paying the barkeep extra to keep his anonymity. And then, every morning, he'd walk to the statue he erected to Duncan, as well as the other Wardens slayed at Ostagar. 

The path to the memorial was not well traveled, it was a dirt path that large rains often liked to wash out, lined with large proud pine trees. The air always smelt like water. Not just the mist from the ocean, but like rain as well. And the sky above was always overcast and cloudy. 

It was a good place to be alone, considering so few people visited there.

So Alistair found it odd, as he walked down the path to the memorial, that he sensed the taint. It was faint, as he started walking towards it, but noticeable. Not strong enough to be more than one tainted...thing? Person? He'd left his sword behind at the Inn, and instead reached for the dagger on his belt, fingering the silver hilt of the blade.

He pulled his hand away when he saw that it was a woman standing in the glade, not a darkspawn. She was an elf, though shorter than Surana was, which was saying something considering Surana was fairly short, and very slender. Her hair was a dark grey and cropped close to her scalp. She didn't wear a Warden uniform, instead she wore simple silvery-white robes, but the staff on her back, a piece of golden wood sanded down to smoothness, with an ornately carved griffon taking flight marked her as both a mage and a Warden-Constable.

She was kneeling in front of the large granite statue of Duncan, his sword dug into the ground as he seemed to look at something far away. A large yellow bottle, presumably alcohol, unopened, sat on the base of the statue. 

The woman turned around to see him as he came off the path. There was a light of recognition in her eyes, but she said nothing to him. “For a moment, I thought perhaps you were one of the darkspawn still remaining from the last blight.”

Alistair let out a small laugh, and walked over to the statue. “You know, I thought the same thing about you, Warden-Constable. I'm surprised there's someone else here. Usually when I visit, I'm alone.”

“I had hoped I would be gone before you arrived, your majesty, I apologize.”

“There's nothing to apologize for. To be honest, I'm glad it's another Warden out here, instead of someone else.” He pressed his lips together softly, in an attempt to stop from tearing up. “Few outside the Order know what we truly sacrifice.”

She nodded softly, and pulled herself from a kneeling position into a sitting one on the base of the statue and began to dust off her knees. “I'm not a Warden any longer.”

“To be fair, neither am I. Can't imagine they're happy about all the people they're losing lately, huh?” he gave a smile, and though it wasn't truly sad, it wasn't happy either, and then sat down beside the woman. 

They sat there in silence for a few moments. Alistair examined the statue. There was no sign of moss or ivy growing on the granite, apparently the spell Surana had cast to protect it from such things had worked, and there were no cracks, or signs of wear on it. He reached a had out to touch at the stone Duncan's hands. He felt a dull ache inside his heart, and a small voice that had never really disappeared, asking him why he hadn't been on the field with him. 

But if he had, the blight would have destroyed Ferelden. The kingdom would be gone. Wiped out. 

“Did you lose someone in the battle, Constable?”

The woman nodded. She now seemed to be avoiding looking at him. “The Warden-Commander, Duncan, was a friend of mine. A close friend.” She didn't look at him, instead she kicked at a stick with her tiny boots, Orlesian made by the looks of them. “I helped him with his joining, actually,” she said after a moment. 

That confused Alistair and his brow furrowed as he looked from the statue to the woman. “You should have left on your calling then, shouldn't you have? Duncan...He was close to leaving on his.”

“It's a long story, your Highness. You didn't come here to hear it. You came here to mourn.”

She pulled herself up, still not looking at him and began to walk towards the path.

Before he could even think, he heard himself call out to her. “Warden-Constable.”

She turned back around, a slightly annoyed look crossing her face for a split second. But she stood there, in silence, listening, and waiting.

“If...you knew Duncan, do you think, maybe, if you're not too busy I mean, you could tell me more about him? Before you leave Highever, I mean. If you have to go now.” It was odd   
how nervous Alistair felt. 

“I would like that, Ali-your highness.” 

“You can call me Alistair, if you want to.”

Another small smile crossed her face. It seemed a little odd there, like it was something the woman didn't often do. Though, that was true of many Wardens, past and present. “I'd like that, Alistair.”


End file.
